Growing in
the canopy-shaded ponds and lakes in the forests of mid-Sarvonia,
the Shadow Lily (Styrásh "Aylás'maerín" or "Reflection Lily") has blossomed into
the myth and superstition of many tribes and cultures. It gains its name not
from its habitat in the twilight dimness of wooded
waters, nor from the colour of its delicate
petals, which rarely show in any hue but pure white; rather, its name comes from
the peculiarity of its reflection in the waters,
for instead of mirroring lovely white, the waters
always reflect a flower of pure black.

Appearance. The
Shadow Lily is regarded widely as a stunningly beautiful plant. Its seed, a grey
sphere resembling a stone worn smooth by running waters,
nestles in the rich soil of the lake bottom and grows out its vining stems to
the surface; most of these open into languid lily pads: cordate leaves of a deep
forest-green that grow larger than a grown man's hand, and yet have all the
delicateness of a maiden's.

Some of these stems, though, form into a more breathtaking creation; these
stems, stronger and darker than those that tether leaves, form small buds, like
tiny white-green flames showing timidly on the lake surface. As they grow, they
shone whiter and whiter, surpassing the whiteness of snow and moonlight to glow
like beacons in the darkness of the forest. When they open, their centers show
with rutilant light, and for a time (usually a day or two), glowing particles,
perhaps pollen, drift up and away, fading into the shade of the forest.

Most peculiar, and notable, about this lily is its reflection, which rather than
showing the pure white petals and brilliant glow, mirrors darkly: a shadow
flower blossoms in the water, its petals blacker than a moonless night, darker
than the feathers of the nightbird - and more haunting than its call. While the
white lily blooms and glows, the reflected lily shows ever more darkly.

But as the white lily fades, and its petals fall and drift, so does the black
lily. As the white petals grow dimmer, so do the black, until they meet as
identical, listless grey-brown. In rare occasions, the lily's center dims, too,
until it forms into a grey seed.

Territory.
The Shadow Lily grows across a wide territory across Sarvonia, ranging from the
Sharadon Forests in the south to the
Shaded Woods in the north. However, it
grows exclusively in the ponds, pools, and lakes of forests, making it a rather
rare sight for tribes that do not inhabit such places.

Usages.
Suiting to the displayed duality of the water
plant, the Shadow Lily is both a panacea and a poison - though it is impossible
to tell which until the moment it is tested. The petals of the lily, plucked
when still bright white and boiled, produce a tea that can cure any ailment,
from blindness and limps to poisons and disease - but it may just as easily kill
the one who ingests it. The human's sometimes
refer to the drink as "Queprur's Blade"
or, less commonly, "Queprur's Tears".

It is unknown what causes the lily to cure or kill - a pure heart, a sincere
soul, the way the moonlight fell when the lily was blooming. Not even the elder
elves or wisest witches know. Ingesting the tea
of the Shadow Lily is always a gamble, and so is very rarely used as a potential
cure - and done so only as a last resort, if at all (for, after all, the Lily
can be difficult to find at times).

The rest of the lily serves little use to humans
- though the frogs of a lily's lake will occasionally rest upon its dark green
leaves, and the fish may collect under its shade - and to all who wander through
the forest, it serves as a redolent light in the woody shadows.

Reproduction.
The Shadow Lily grows as though indifferent to all weather, and will bloom and
grow in any season, provided it has room. (Lakes home to Shadow Lilies are noted
to rarely freeze over, and when they do freeze, rarely do so entirely, as though
winter gave space for the blossom.) A single plant seems capable of living for
many hundreds of years, and so rarely goes through the cycle of reproducing a
seed, though it will almost always be blooming.

The hidden cycles of the lily's seed-creation remain unknown. Whether it is tied
to its own cycle of life and death, or those of the lilies around it, or to
something else entirely: the movements of the distant tides, the silent songs
the trees sing, the tears the world has shed. Or perhaps all of these contribute
to the exigence of the seed.

When the lily does produce a seed, it forms as the petals are fading and
drifting away across the water. It develops
at the end of the blossom's stem, sheen as the nacre of a pearl, until it grows
too heavy for the stem and drops noiselessly into the
water, vanishing to the bottom from where it
will grow.

Myth/Lore.
The Shadow Lily's mysterious nature and unusual qualities have precipitated its
blossoming into myth and legend. Among humans,
it is often associated with Queprur, the
shadow reflection representing the inevitability of death lingering even in the
beauty of life. The tea produced by the petals is referred to among humans as
Queprur's Blade or
Queprur's Tears, Both represent the sway
of Queprur in determining whether the
drink will kill or cure. Like a crystal, the mystery of the flower takes the
light of human awe and wonder and scatters it into many colourful stories.

The most popular ones attribute the creation of the strane and beautiful blossom
to Queprur, Goddess of Death. In one
story, it is Jeyriall who created the flower, a testament to the purity of her
love for Armeros. She endowed it with the
ability to heal wounds and cure disease, to be a light in dark places. However,
Queprur, filled with jealousy after being
rejected by the God of War, twisted the
flower's reflection, ensuring that whosoever should try to use the lily would
take a gamble with their own life; a blossom that might engender the restorative
love of Jeyriall might also lead to the
deathly blade of Queprur.

Another similar story acknowledges Queprur
as the one creator of the flower; her quiet, deadly hands crafted it originally
as a flower to bloom on the day Armeros
took her as his mate; when she was rejected, she twisted it and made its effects
chaotic and potentially deadly; an accurate reflection of the chaos and
potential consequences of love.

But not all tales of the lily pertain to
Queprur. Another, popular in northern
Santharia, begins with the story of two
unicorns living in the peaceful woodland of the forest. Their love for one
another was deep and pure, for unicorns know no other way to love. One day, one
was killed by a careless human hunter, and the
other was filled with overwhelming despair. Looking into its reflection in a
pool, it shed a tear which shimmered with both sorrow and anger. From that time
on, the lake produced a white lily, representing the purity of its love and
sorrow, reflecting as a black one, representing its anger: the twin emotions of
grief.

For the elves, though, the flower has poignant
significance, representing the dichotomy of Avá
and Coór. According to
elven myth, the dreaming
Avá is ineffably beautiful - and not all the
beauty in all the lands of Caelereth can
compare to hers. The beauty contained in the world is but a smolder to the
brilliant sun of
Avá. As she dreamed, she dreamed the world -
but as she searched herself, she discovered darkness in her reflection, a shadow
as dark as her beauty is brilliant, and this was
Coór. Vastly different but inseparable, this relationship is echoed in the
Lily, the depth of whose lovely radiance is matched only by the depth of
darkness found in its shadow reflection.

There are a multitude of stories from across the land, and even idiosyncrasies
in the same tales as one travels from village to village and forest to forest,
but one thing remains constant: the lily fills all who know of it with wonder
and a tinge of fear.

History.
The Shadow Lily blossoms even in the time of myth. It is said to have grown in
the days of Fá'áv'cál'âr, during which
time, myth states, the flower was immortal as the elves. It prospered in the
open ponds and lakes of that great elven empire, blooming in the full grandeur
of Injèrá's light, around reflection ponds
and decorative moats girding the empire temples and palaces. Then, as now, the
lily was seen as a reflection of the unique bond between
Avá and Coór.

For this reason, the lily grew in prominence during the reign of
Kásh'áv'taylá. Though now lost or
drown within the Water Marshes, carvings of the lily are said to have blossomed
across the stone work and murals commissioned by the proud queen. But when the
empire fell in the tears and blood of the elven
people, so did the symbolic flower - and when the race was cursed with
mortality, it was as well.

Since the days of Fá'áv'cál'âr, the lily
no longer flourishes in the brilliance of full sunlight, but keeps quietly to
the shadows of deep woods. And while it still gleams with beauty, it is believed
it will never again blossom with the same enrapturing beauty that it did when
time was young and elves, immortal.